


Shatter us

by CupcakeGangsta



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, Shatter Me Series - Tahereh Mafi
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Canon Relationships, Drabble Sequence, I'm just going to rewrite some chapters, Parts are taken straight from the books
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:08:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25881100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupcakeGangsta/pseuds/CupcakeGangsta
Summary: I have been locked up for 264 days.I have nothing but a small notebook and a broken pen and the numbers in my head to keep me company.And him. Tybalt.This is will be a series of drabble-like rewrites of some scenes from the books. Because I watched His dark materials and now I'm inspired.
Relationships: Juliette Ferrars/Aaron Warner, Juliette Ferrars/Adam Kent
Comments: 5
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Effei for brainstorming with me! You made being stuck at home so much more bearable even though we're at opposite sides of the continent ❤️
> 
> Disclaimer!!  
> Most of this is straight out ripped from the original book. I translated most of it freehand from my Swedish copy, but I want to make it very clear that if you recognize the sentence it's because it's the original author's, Tahereh Mafi's, words not mine.

I have been locked up for 264 days.

I have nothing but a small notebook and a broken pen and the numbers in my head to keep me company.

One window, four walls, 144 square feet of space, 26 letters in an alphabet I haven’t spoken in 264 days of isolation.

Except to him. Tybalt.

We seldom speak. He sits in my hair, close to my ear, and I can barely feel my lips move. And so whispers pass between us.

_Have we've gone mad yet?_

Hushed, _hush,_ more quiet than Tybalt’s wings that lay to rest against my throat, where our heart keeps beat beat beating.

6336 hours since I last touched another human being.

They told us they were going to give us a roommate. _For good behavior,_ they said. _No more isolation._

We wanted to tell them we were happy as we were. That we didn’t need company, company that would jump and chase after Tybalt. They always did. But no one listens to us. No one cares. Not this time either. The wardens with the dog daemon and the porcupine daemon.

We don’t know where we are.

We know that the sky falls down every day. And once upon a time, a long long time ago, it used to be the color of lapis lazuli. I only remember what it might have looked like because of Tybalt. I don’t see him often. Only when the light falls in a certain way through the small window that is cold to the touch. But when it does, and when I see him, he opens and closes his wings shyly.

And for a moment, I remember the sky.

I wonder what the sky looks from outside the window...

“Perhaps a roommate won’t be so bad, after all”, I whisper to him in the evening.

“Do you really think so?”, he asks. Hesitant.

I’m quiet. 5 beats of my heart. Twice he spreads his wings.

“Yeah...”, I say.

“I think it will be nice to speak to someone else. It’s easier than writing.”

“We need to practice”, he says, and he flutters away to sit on the steel railing of the bed.

He opens and closes. Waits.

And we practice. The entire day until the sun cracks its yolk at the horizon. Letters into words into sentences into dialogue.

We're both surprised that I even remember.

They never told us when our roommate would arrive. And so we wait.

And we wait.

And we wait for too long and fall asleep.

* * *

I open my eyes to see two eyes two lips two ears two eyebrows.

Tybalt almost hits the ceiling.

I almost gain wings off my own and follow him.

"You're a b-b-b-b--"

"And you're a girl", he says. And he sits back and my eyes are jumping from him to the door and back again and Tybalt is flying circles around my head.

They did this on purpose.

His arms are tattooed from his wrists to his elbows. Dark brown hair.

Blue eyes. Dark blue eyes like lapis lazuli. But I don't have time to think of the fact that it looks like Tybalt has duplicated and landed on his eyelids because on his shoulder--

Grey body white tipped wings yellow head with large circles of red on her cheeks like a child who has found her way into her mother's make-up case.

She notices me stare at her and suddenly there is a fan of yellow on her head and she lets out a startled chirp.

My lungs have forgotten how to breathe.

She turns her head and just as quickly the crown of yellow is gone, tucked flat on her head.

He laughs and they must think I'm scared and he steals my bed my blanket my pillow and I'm left on the floor.

Yet I don't object. I just place myself in the corner and Tybalt lands on my head and it must look like I'm glowering at him, the boy, as he tries to make small talk.

"Are you crazy or what? Is that why you're in here?"

Tybalt opens closes.

_We're not crazy._

We're not crazy for staring at his daemon as she tucks her head above her wing and sleeps. We're not crazy for trying to understand how out of all daemons that she could be she came here how she flew out of our dreams to land here in our cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written from Juliette's POV, but I must say, using "we" as a pronoun felt the most strange. And I probably made Juliette sound even more insane than usual. I'm not very used to rewriting other people's work like this either...
> 
> Please comment and tell me what you think! I'm not scared of feedback!
> 
> Skip this if you want the daemons to stay vague:
> 
> \- Tybalt is a butterfly. I was very conflicted on having him be a butterfly instead of something more lethal, but I'm thinking since he'd settle when Juliette had such low self-esteem it makes sense that he's a fluttery insecure insect that tries to melt into the background. But he's still extra enough that he's cobalt blue.
> 
> \- Adam's daemon, who doesn't have a name yet, is a cockatiel. Not as cool as a cockatoo, but I wanted to use his bird tattoo somehow. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was this close, THIS close to trying to rewrite more chapters than I could ever stay inspired to do. But I'm not going to do that. I will stick to my plan and write a Kenji chapter, a James chapter, Anderson chapter, a Nazeera, Haider and Lena chapter, and an Emmaline chapter. And probably another Warner chapter when it's more romantic, but I'm prioritizing trying new daemons.

Someone, maybe Adam please not Adam don’t let it be Adam, kicks me in the back and I’m hurled forward. I scream as my kneecaps hit the cement floor.

I can’t see. It’s bright and Tybalt flies down to try and shade my eyes with his wings. But he doesn’t dare to land, to rest and it only becomes a rapid shadow light shadow light.

“Juliette Ferrars.” The voice booms through the room. Echoes on these naked, hard walls.

Again a boot is pushed against my back and I’m forced even further down against the floor.

“Dim the lights. I want to see her face”, the voice says.

His voice is steel. Sharp and unyielding. Cold, yet wielded with such a confident ease that it scares me.

I’m not surprised when I spot the feline daemon stretched out in front of the field chair. Unashamed to take up all that the floor space.

For a moment I'm convinced she's a snow leopard. But she's nowhere large enough. She's slender, yet there's nothing hiding the powerful muscles in her legs.

I don't have much time to pay attention to her features before my eyes land on him.

He's young. Barely older than me. And he's

I wish I could choke on my thoughts.

_ handsome. _

His hair is gold to his daemon's silver. His perfect black suit to her spots. Their eyes the exact same pale shade of emerald that I’m almost convinced I’m seeing double.

It's almost supernatural how well they match each other.

The daemon flicks her tail. He smiles.

Tybalt goes to hide in my hair.

I already hate him.

“You’re so stubborn”, he muses.   
_ “Uncooperative.” _

“You couldn’t even play nice with your roommate.”

I startle without meaning to. Blush without giving my consent.

Adam. Adam who was removed from the cell and came back the next day. Except he wasn’t the same. Bucky didn’t as much as lift her feather at us. And Adam, he pointed a gun at me.

Green eyes lights up.

_ “Interesting...”, _ he says.

He lifts a hand and snaps in the air. A dog daemon startles over by the wall.

“Kent, come here please.”

Adam walks up from behind me. And even more shocked to see Bucky sit, almost like a statue on his shoulder. She doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t look at me.

I feel an impulse to wave my arms at him, just to try and get a reaction. Tybalt flutters in my hair.

_ You wouldn’t dare, _ I think.

“Sir”, Adam says.

“You seem to have made quite the impression on them.”

He’s looking at Adam. His daemon is looking at me.

I avert my eyes away from her’s and focus on green eyes. There on his lapel, is an embroidered name.  _ Warner. _

“No comment on that?”, Warner asks as Adam doesn’t offer a reply.

Adam looks like a wall.

“Sir”, is all he says.

The cat daemon suddenly turns her head and looks over at the two.

“Of course.” And suddenly Warner’s bored. “Why would you ever have something so say?”

“Are you going to kill us?” The words escape my mouth before I can stop them because I’m an idiot and part of me wants to shift the attention away from Adam.

Someone slams the butt of a firearm in the middle of my back. Next moment my face is pressed against the dirty floor and my breath is hissing out of my lungs.

“That was not necessary, Roland.” Warner pretends to admonish. “I’d ask the same thing if I were in her situation.”

A pause.

“Juliette?”

It almost takes all of my strength to bring up my head to look at him, but I do. And once again two pairs of identical green eyes are aimed at me. The daemon looks like she’s ready to pounce at me.

“I have a proposal for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warner's daemon is a silver bengal.  
> I know, I'm so unoriginal. Way too similar to Lord Asriel. But I see Warner with a cat. Because he's an asshole. A big cat. But not too big.


	3. Chapter 3

James never stops talking.

And I love it.

Another thing I love is to watch his daemon, Billy, _who’s actually called Berlin but we call him Billy because it’s weird to be named after a city,_ change shape. I don’t remember when I last saw an unsettled daemon. I was never allowed near children long enough to watch. 

He’s ten, soon eleven and twelve in two years, and full of life.

One moment he’s a puppy tumbling around underneath the sofa, another a budgie flying loops around the room, the next a squirrel running up and down the back of the old, comfortable sofa.

But he seems to enjoy the budgie the most, as he reverts back to it as soon as he goes to bicker with Bucky, who jabs at him warningly with her beak.

“He’s really cool”, James says as he looks at Tybalt.

“I’ve never seen a daemon like that.” 

He doesn’t say _animal_ or _butterfly like that_ , and I realize that James, being only ten years old, can’t have much memory of the animals that used to roam this earth.

“I’m not so sure that he’s a real butterfly, actually”, I admit.  
“I’ve never heard of a blue butterfly anyway.”

James gasps and Billy comes to land on his head, his endless chirping stunned quiet.

 _“Wow…!”,_ he says.

“How do you get a daemon that doesn’t exist...?!”

 _“James”,_ Adam gently warns.

“I’m sorry”, James quickly says.

“It’s alright”, I say. “I don’t know how it happened. I only know I wanted him to be small, so that we wouldn’t take up much space. And I always loved the concept of flying.”

I don’t tell him that I was terrified when he settled as a colorful, frail insect. That if he was going to become an insect, I would have prefered him to be a moth. Because a moth blends in. Tybalt demands all the attention without meaning to. He’s out of this world.

“Huh”, James says, puzzled. And then there’s about a second and a half of silence.

“I don’t think I would like a small daemon. But I know Adam thinks I ought to have a quiet one, since two of us making noise would be unbearable.”

Bucky raises her fan and whistles in offence.

“I’ve never said that!”, Adam protests.

“But you do like it when he’s a bunny rabbit.”

“Yeah, _because he’s cute…!”_

* * *

“He’s amazing”, I whisper in the dark once James and Billy have been tucked into bed. I’m laying on curled up beside Adam. Hands resting on his chest. Head tucked in under his chin. My ear against his neck. His fingers running through my hair in fascination at its length.

I am a cat basking in the sun. In his warmth.

Tybalt has perched on Bucky’s head where he’s on the top of the world.

“I know…”, he murmurs.   
“Most adults think he’s a bit hyper, but I think he’s just understimulated.”

“Well you can tell he’s intelligent”, I say.

He moves and gives me a peculiar, but still humoured, look and I blush.

“You can tell by the way that his daemon changes shape so often. I’ve read that’s a promising sign, for like, being... successful and… all kinds of good stuff...”, I blabber.

He considers it.

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense...”

We’re quiet for about a minute. I gaze at Tybalt and Bucky. 

“Do you know why Bucky is a cockatiel?”, I ask.

Bucky chirps at the mention of her and Tybalt has to flap his wings to keep his balance as she turns her head in interest.

“I don’t know...”, he says. “Neither does she.”

“I used to dream of a bird. But a different one. It was larger and completely white. Except the crest, the feathers on the head. The crest was bright yellow, almost orange.”

“It gave me hope, so maybe it had an impact on her shape.”

“Maybe”, Bucky agrees.

“You dreamt about it?”, I say, amazed.

“Yeah”, he murmurs.  
“All the time.”

“I used to dream about a bird like that, too”, I whisper.

 _“That_ bird...?”, he asks.

“Exactly”, I say.  
“Until you walked into my cell. It’s been absent from my dreams since then.”

“You’re joking”, he almost laughs but there’s a child in the other room.

We both know I’m not.

I rest my forehead against his chest. Breathes in his sweet smell. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer.

And I lay there until I forget what a world without this warmth is like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James' daemon is a boy. Because I wanted him to be noisy. And yes, his name is Berlin. Anyone who can guess Bucky's real name? 
> 
> And also, Juliette and Adam weren't laying down in the original scene, just in case you wondered :P


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7 of Destroy me.

“Well, isn’t this embarrassing. My son, tied down like an animal. His daemon, in a cage.”

Indeed, Nephrite has been placed in a cage standing by the end of this bed. She is curled up in the corner where she’s looking at the large beast lounging on the floor across the room, next to the armchair someone must have brought in here, because it does not belong in one of our medical rooms.

He must have been sitting down, just waiting for the right moment to wake us up. I can hear him stand up.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”, he asks, amused.

I don’t offer him a reply. I stare at the ceiling.

"I would have known sooner or later even if you had managed to prevent his alerts. This is not the kind of mess you can shove into your closet and hope I don't find. You are an idiot, a _naive child,_ for thinking otherwise."

He walks over to Nephrite and undoes a latch on the box. She mimics me. Stares ahead. Does not acknowledge his presence.

“Out you come”, he says.

Nephrite stays put. He hasn’t moved back to allow her much room to walk out. Yet she knows she must. We both know.

It only takes her a second to coil power into her hind legs, then she springs. Dives through the small gap between the side of the cage and his leg to leap into the middle of the room.

He follows; takes a step towards her. She turns sharply on him, raises her back and opens her mouth to hiss. We don’t have time to react.

Faster than neither of us register she is slammed into the wall with a sickening thud. I gasp for air as our lungs are simultaneously knocked flat.

My Father’s daemon rumbles and she lowers her giant paw. Her ice-blue eyes look at Nephrite, unimpressed. She is a white tiger. Huge. Always larger than Nephrite could turn into. Always towering above. Always more powerful. Invincible.

My father walks up, bends downs and grabs Nephrite by the scruff of the neck and lifts her. I gasp and jerk in pain at the maneuver but I'm only reminded of the restraints around my wrists and ankles. At the bullet wound in my shoulder that makes my arm useless even though it’s technically free.

Not that we are able to do anything. Father does what he wants. We learned that long ago.

_When he knocked for the car to drive away with Nephrite locked into the trunk. I couldn’t run fast enough even if I tried. Instead, I was left to scream, shackled to a pole._

_“You mustn’t let anything hold you back, son.”_

He places her in the crook of his arm as if she was a house cat. As if we were enjoying this. As if vomit was not rising in the back of my throat.

I should have gotten used to this. No one knows of this. It's a well-guarded secret.

He runs his fingers through the fur at the nape of her neck. On her head. Flips her ear with his thumb.

“Where were we?”, he pretends to ponder.

He sits down on my bed. Nephrite still smothered in his arms.

"Ah yes. _You’re an idiot."_ He says. “But a very lucky idiot.”

I can hardly breathe. If I could see her I'd know her eyes are slim slits. I can feel her clenched jaw. Her fighting the urge to drive her claws through his suit jacket and into his arm.

“So lucky I came all the way here to make things right. So lucky I have the time to correct your mistakes. We’ll track and eliminate the rebels, find the girl, and kill the traitors that I haven’t already dealt with.”

“Traitors?”, I echo. I do not wish to engage with him, but I have no choice. As petty as it may seem I wanted to do the honors of punishing Kent for his transgressions. For daring to think he was worthy of _her._

My father’s next words, however, send my guts free-falling, as if the bed, floor and earth disappeared underneath me.

“The family of Private 45B-76423 Seamus Fletcher, you managed to neglect protocol of executing them alongside their traitorous husband and father.” He smiles. “But don’t worry, it was easily rectified”, he pretends to assure me as he scratches Nephrite’s chin.

The Fletcher family. Seamus’ wife and their three children.

“I hear they sent their regards.” A pause. “Well, this was before I had them all killed, but the wife remembered you apparently. My men said she told them you visited the compounds, before all this... unpleasantness occurred. You’d be asking for the civilians.”

_Three small daemons dancing around Nephrite’s line of vision as they dared each other to get closer to her tail as I inquired the mother about the bruises on her face. The broken arm of her youngest. The miscarriage that had occurred earlier that week._

I had to get them out of there.

I thought I could help. To turn a blind eye as they left the compound.

I thought killing their tormentor would facilitate their escape.

And I realize it: I’ve been a fool. _A naive child._

Nephrite is trembling from nausea alongside me. Father pretends not to notice.

“I can’t say I’m surprised by any of this, however. After all, your attention has been quite… _misdirected_ lately”, he tuts.

“Another thing we’ll have to deal with...”

Then his hand stops. More alert now.

“Now tell me, who shot you? Delalieu seems as clueless as the others.”

I say nothing.

“Too ashamed to admit you were shot by one of your own soldiers, then?”

I close my eyes. Banish the image, the feeling, of my hands on her body. Of the sound of her fluttering breath. Of the butterfly landing on Nephrite’s nose.

Of the gunshot tearing through it all.

“Was it Kent? He who ran off with your toy.”

I clench my fists, and he takes it as a confirmation.

“Tell me”, he says, leaning into my ear. “How would you deal with a traitor like that? Are you going to go visit his family, too? Make nice with his wife? Play with his children?”

And I don’t mean to say it out loud, but I can’t stop myself in time. “I’m going to kill him.”

He laughs out loud so suddenly it’s almost a howl. He drops Nephrite to the floor at his feet. She sways, almost stumbles. So unbalancing and intoxicating is relief.

Yet, she’s not free yet. An entertaining idea in the first place. We are never free.

Nephrite barely has time to recollect herself, time for us to breath and gather our sanity, when my father’s daemon swoops at her. Nephrite is almost crushed underneath her. I can feel the low purr vibrate as if it was my own body being flattened out.

She licks Nephrite on the head. At the same time Father claps a hand on my head and musses my hair with the same hand that he used to pick up and molest my daemon. “Much better”, he says, starting to work on the restraints around my wrist. “So much better. Now get up, son. We have work to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to name Warner's deamon Jade, but I didn't want ANOTHER character with a name starting with J, so I want with Nephrit, which is a compound of jade. Cool, huh? Sounds like a queen's name in my opinion.
> 
> And if anyone's wondering, I choose to use the word molest because that's the level of taboo that touching somebody else's daemon is.


End file.
